Emergency At Bayside

‘The police are wrong,’ she retorted quickly. ‘And anyway, it’s none of your business.’ She knew she was being rude, but something about Flynn had her acting completely out of character. The little hint about the Danish pastry, the blush that wouldn’t go away—and now she was answering him back. It wasn’t actually out of character. It was more the old Meg. The Meg before Vince had extinguished every last piece of her fiery personality.

Flynn begged to differ. ‘Oh, but it is my business, young lady. It became my business at precisely four minutes past eight this morning, when I stabilised your neck in the wreckage of your car.’ His voice was curt and formal, with no hint of the man who had held her hand just this morning, cajoled her to stay awake—who, even in the most dire of circumstances, had actually managed to make her laugh. ‘It became my business when I found out that one of the nurses in my department was so damned tired after her night shift she nearly killed herself. And,’ he added, standing over her so she had no choice but to look at him, ‘had you wiped out an entire family, no doubt it would have been left to me to deal with it. So you see, Meg—’ his lip curled around her name ‘—it is my business.’

Despite his anger, it wasn’t a no holds barred attack, Meg realised. Not once had he mentioned the very real danger he had put himself in by staying with her throughout the ordeal, and his modest omission somehow touched her.

He stood there for a moment, his eyes challenging her to respond, but she was too tired and too utterly defeated to argue. ‘Right, then. I’ve spoken to your parents, and I’m happy for you to be discharged tomorrow as long as you go and stay with them.’

‘That’s all I need,’ Meg muttered ungraciously.

‘I want the physio to see you before you go and run through some deep breathing exercises. Your chest is badly bruised and it’s important he sees you.’

‘No.’

Flynn let out an exasperated sigh.

‘The catheter I can understand your objection to— but physio, for heaven’s sake? Do you have to argue about everything?’

‘You don’t understand.’

‘So enlighten me.’

‘Jake Reece is the Emergency physio,’ Meg started, her eyes darting around the obs ward to check that Kathy had definitely gone.

‘So why is that a problem?

‘He’s marrying my sister.’

Flynn’s face broke into a grin then, and for a second he looked like the Flynn from this morning. ‘Jake and Kathy are getting married? That’s fantastic news.’ He seemed to remember she was there then, and stared at her, perplexed. ‘So why on earth don’t you want him to see you?’

‘Because, unlike you, I’m not exactly thrilled with the news.’

‘Why?’ He seemed genuinely bemused and Meg couldn’t believe that he didn’t understand how she was feeling.

‘He’s her physiotherapist, for heaven’s sake. Kathy’s handicapped. It’s wrong.’

His face changed. She saw his bemused look change to one of distaste.

‘Please don’t try to tell me that you’re so politically correct you haven’t even noticed.’

‘Of course I’ve noticed. Kathy has also told me about it herself. Unlike you, she doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. From what I can remember of our conversation, she has mild cerebral palsy from birth, which has left her with a limp and a minor speech impediment. What she didn’t tell me, but I soon found out for myself, is that she happens to be a fun, happy, caring and very attractive woman.’

‘He’s ten years older than her.’

‘Hardly a hanging offence.’ He paused then, eyeing her carefully before continuing. ‘As you yourself pointed out, he’s her physio, not her doctor. They will have spent a lot of time together. If you got down off your high horse and actually spent some time with them, instead of judging them, you might find yourself pleasantly surprised.’

And, after signing off her discharge papers, he left her lying there.

Lying there for all the world wishing the ground would open up and swallow her.

CHAPTER THREE

MEG’S childhood had ended at nine years old.

The day Kathy was born.

She had spent endless afternoons sitting after school in a waiting room doing her homework while Mary took her youngest daughter to a seemingly never-ending round of appointments. Paediatricians, speech therapists, occupational therapists—the list had been endless.

The only person who had taken it all in her stride, literally, had been Kathy. Defying the doctors’ grim prognosis, she had cheerfully picked herself up, over and over, until finally at the age of four she had taken her first steps. Her optimistic, sunny nature had served her well in the playground also, with Kathy making friends easily and keeping them. A group of little girls Meg had referred to as ‘Kathy’s army’. But Kathy’s army hadn’t always been there for her, and the playground hadn’t been the only place a child like Kathy could run into trouble or become the victim of a cruel and thoughtless taunt.

So, from the day Kathy had come home from the hospital, Meg had taken it upon herself to look out for her. It was almost as if Meg had been fitted with an inbuilt radar, constantly on the alert, always looking out for her little sister.

And even though the callipers had long since gone, even though Kathy was nineteen years old now, and, as Flynn had pointed out, extremely attractive with a social life that would exhaust anyone, Meg’s radar was still there. The protective feelings Meg had for her little sister hadn’t faded one iota. That was why she was cautious of Jake. She certainly wasn’t the bigot Flynn had implied. Her concern here was only to save Kathy from being hurt. After all, Meg knew better than most how easily your heart could be broken.

But a couple of weeks at home, hiding away in her old bedroom, reading again the wonderful books that had fuelled her childhood and eating the inordinate meals that appeared every few hours, had given Meg plenty of time for reflection and introspection, and somewhere along the way Meg had finally realised that Kathy neither wanted nor needed saving.

But Kathy wasn’t all that Meg had dwelled on as her sick leave days ticked by into double figures. Hesitantly, painfully, Meg had travelled the bittersweet journey of the brokenhearted. Bitter because, bruised and battered, and with a good excuse to cry, Meg had allowed herself to finally grieve—grieve for the man she had lost, the man she had thought Vince was. And sweet because, despite the pain, despite the soul-searching as her blackened chest turned to a dirty yellow and her swollen lips finally went down, for the first time in six months Meg actually knew she was finally over him.

‘I’ve brought you some soup.’

Meg screwed up her nose as Kathy peered around the bedroom door, a laden tray in her hands. ‘I’m sick of soup.’

‘How do you think I feel? I wasn’t even in an accident and I’m having lentil broth forced down me twice a day. At least you can afford to put some weight on; I’m going to be huge for my party at this rate.’

‘What happened to the ‘‘casual dinner’’?’

Kathy laughed. ‘Mum got involved, that’s what happened. How she’s managed to book a hall and caterers at such short notice I’ve no idea. I shudder to think what the wedding’s going to be like. Half of me just wants to get a licence and get it over and done with, without all the fuss.’

Raining salt on her soup, Meg didn’t look up. ‘And the other half?’

‘The other half of me is starting to buy all the bridal magazines and is wrestling between crushed silk and organza, and lilies as opposed to freesias. I guess the upshot is I can’t wait to be married.’

This time Meg did look up. Seeing her sister sitting on the edge of her bed, her face glowing, her eyes literally sparkling, Meg knew she had never seen Kathy looking happier. ‘You really love him, don’t you?’

‘I really do.’ Kathy paused for a moment. ‘And the best bit of it all is that I know Jake loves me—all of me—even down to my limp. He says that if it wasn’t for my limp we’d never have met, which is a pretty nice way of looking at it.’

It was nice, Meg admitted to herself. Actually, in the last few days she had found herself looking at Jake rather differently. He had treated Meg with professional friendliness at the hospital, and as—thanks to Flynn Kelsey—she had been forced into spending the last two weeks at home, there had been plenty of time to watch Jake and Kathy together. Jake even took Mary’s somewhat overbearing nature in his stride.

‘How do you feel about going back to work tomorrow?’

Meg shrugged. ‘It will be nice to get away from the soup.’

‘I wouldn’t bet on it. Mum’s just bought a massive stainless steel vacuum flask; you’ll be supping on her Irish broth for weeks yet.’ When Meg didn’t laugh Kathy continued tentatively. ‘A bit nervous, huh?’

Meg nodded. ‘A bit,’ she admitted. ‘It doesn’t help that everyone thinks I fell asleep at the wheel.’

‘It will be old news soon. They’ll soon find something else to talk about.’

‘I just wish I could remember what happened.’